The Show
by Fluffy Nouget
Summary: She was the hot potato of the family: constantly being passed around not knowing where or who she'd land with. He was the literal underdog of the group: youngest of the bunch and so inexperienced even Embry didn't find it funny. Welcome to The Show. CxOC
1. Prologue & Chapter 1

_**A/N at end!**_

_**.: Prologue :.**_

Think about this and tell me if it seems fun, because I'm honestly having a hard time deciding: You're seventeen and are at the end of your rope. You have a car, fifty bucks, minimal personal belongings and strict instructions to make a beeline for Washington state. You're going to live with someone you've never met who will watch you until you reach legal adulthood.

Would you do it?

Or would you bail halfway there thinking you could mange on your own?

For most teens this must seem like some dream come true – a chance to just escape one life and pick up another.

To just start everything over.

Well what if you've started over so many times you've forgotten where you originally started – where you came from?

Granted, I knew exactly where I came from; there's just some things you can't forget so easily. When I first started moving from state to state with relatives I didn't even know I had I thought maybe things were finally looking up for me – that I was getting my do-over in life.

I was happy at first, getting to see the country from completely different views as I moved continuously across the states; blood relatives soon switching over to relatives by marriage and then people who were 'relatives' but not really.

I had practically left the family tree at that point.

It was always one inconvenience after another that would have me packing up and leaving: not enough money, space, time, moment in life – I'd heard them all.

When I moved in with Will and his husband in LA I thought for sure I had found a place to call home, at least in the stationary sense. They were nice, didn't care that I was pretty much bumming off of them, and gave me the best full year of my life – one where I wasn't forced to pack up and leave after only a month or two of trying to help out to make up for them taking me in.

It was ultimately my own decision to leave; I felt I owed it to them.

They had finally found a surrogate so as they could get the child they always wanted, so who was I to put a damper on that? They lived in a small apartment as it was and didn't need me filling up the spare room that was going to be the nursery. It was a teary goodbye – something completely foreign to me until then – and together they sent me on my way up to Washington state where Will's great aunt was more than willing to house me seeing as she had no kids of her own.

I had fully progressed onto complete strangers.

It was scary at first, but as the drive across state borders gave me time to think I realized that maybe this was one do-over out of the many I've had that I've been waiting for.

_The One. _

Your guess is only as good as mine as to how this whole thing could possibly pan out.

Here's to hoping.

* * *

_**.: Chapter One :.**_

* * *

Will had described his great aunt in entirely one word: eccentric.

This had, of course, made me slightly hesitant about making the drive up to the tiny town of La Push where she lived, but now that I was actually in the area, that one word seemed to make sense.

You'd have to be crazy to live in a place so green.

Then again I couldn't really complain: I'd lived in some pretty left-field places myself.

I shook my head in disbelief as I continued to putter along the seemingly abandoned road. The map on the passenger seat my witness that I was indeed right where I needed to be along with the printed out Google map of street specifics. I hadn't thought a place as small as La Push would even _be_ Google-able, but alas: the search engine knew _everything_.

I followed the red arrows drawn onto the map off of the main road and felt the car dip as it left asphalt in favor of dirt and gravel. There seemed to be no one else living on the lane that I was proceeding down with caution, my mind vaguely telling me that this was how most slasher films usually started out. The trees practically formed a tunnel as I made a left at the oddly painted mailbox (purple with neon splatters) and started down the drive, the light dim and green as it filtered through the leaves. I drove on while growing increasingly nervous until the trees began to thin out and a small clearing came into view, a white house plopped in the middle and practically glowing as though from a fairy tale.

Oh my god.

The house – cottage seemed like a more appropriate word – did not only look Disney, but was the embodiment of it.

From where I sat parked next to what appeared to be a brand new VW Rabbit, I stared in slight shock across the yard. A small pea-gravel path led from the driveway up to the front porch, luscious plants falling out from the overgrown planters lining the walkway. Dispersed throughout these plants were small garden statues, each as different from the next. Gnomes were definitely the majority, followed by deers and other woodland creatures – birds, squirrels, frogs, rabbits.

You name it.

It would have been endearingly cute had they not all been staring at me.

I hesitantly got out of the car, wondering if the woman would even noticed if I never showed up. Granted, I didn't know where I else would run off to, but surely anywhere would be better than this, right?

"And here you are! _Finally!_" I jumped and looked up to find a not-so old woman standing on the front porch, every bit as colorful and unique as her yard. Her gray hair was short and choppy, looking as though she had just been electrocuted as strings and strings of beads hung from her neck, some of them getting lost in the folds of her multiple scarves. Her hands fluttered at her sides as she practically skipped down the porch steps and made her way down the path towards me, her skirt swishing wildly at the plants she jumped across in her haste.

And I just stood there.

In shock.

"Will was right as usual – such a pretty, pretty girl!" And then she was hugging me, just like that, just like we had known each other since birth and I had just gotten back from a particularly long absence. Not quite knowing what else to do I merely patted the woman's back and allowed her to sway us back and forth where we stood, seemingly in sync with nature.

Where the hell had Will sent me?

"Y-you're Marjorie, right? Marjorie Nielson?" I asked, making sure that I hadn't made some wrong turn and ended up in the entirely wrong place – that'd be a godsend if I did.

"But of course!" The woman trilled before shoving me away so as to hold me at arm's length, her vivid blue gaze seemingly analyzing me. "And you're Quinnella James!"

God bless my mother and her knack for naming things.

"I-I go by Quinn, if that's alright." I stated, hating my name more so than usual.

"Alright? Of course it is! I'll call you whatever you like, my little Hollyhock! Now, let's see…" And just like that she fluttered past me towards the trunk of the car, my mind whirling as I tried to process what had just happened. I turned and watched as she cupped her hands on the glass to peer inside, much like a child would at an aquarium. She pulled away moments later and tapped her chin thoughtfully before turning back to me, her face lighting up in what appeared to be genuine happiness.

I braced myself for impact.

"We'll have some of the boys move your things in later," I had no idea who she was talking about, "in the meantime let me show you around your new home!" And with the energy I didn't think someone like her could possess, Marjorie Nielson shot forwards and latched onto my hand, towing me down the flower lined walkway and up the front steps of the porch, all while chitter-chattering away about plants and color schemes.

This was definitely shaping up to be very slasher filmy.

And dear lord…I was going to be buried beneath the gnomes.

* * *

_**A/N**_: _So I'm a little unsure about this one – I'm approaching it completely differently than I did with When the Wind Blows – so things can only get better from here. It is a __**CollinxOC**__, so there's that, but also I'm trying hard to make this new original character different from Caroline, so for those of you who have read WTWB, lemme know if Quinn ever starts to channel too much Caroline! _

_**Reviews/comments/questions/obscene remarks are always loved, welcomed, laughed at, or sometimes deleted, depending on what I get! Thanks guys! ~Fluff**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N at end!**_

* * *

_**.: Chapter 2 :.**_

* * *

It took me no more than five seconds to fall in love with my new home.

The inside of Marjorie's house left absolutely nothing to the imagination – it was as bold and up front as the woman herself. Even though I was only standing in the middle of the landing in front of the narrow set of stairs that led upwards, I could see directly into the living room, kitchen, and even dining room.

I'd never seen so much organized chaos outside of an antique store.

I also noticed there seemed to be pretty evident themes assigned to the rooms; the kitchen was a pastel yellow with other splashes of bright colors with flowers everywhere; on the table, the counter, the window sills, the side tables. _Everywhere_.

The living room was practically the world in a nutshell. Framed photos of every major landmark covered every available surface, as did the various souvenirs that were placed methodically around for easy perusing. From where I stood I could make out pictures of what I assumed was a much younger Marjorie standing by the Eiffel tower and on the Great Wall of China, and those were only two of the seemingly thousands decorating the room.

Turning around I came face to face with the dining room and found myself surprised at the chic elegance of it all. There were no obnoxious colors or cluttered shelves and tables. There was only a simple wooden table with four chairs and a miniature chandelier hanging from the ceiling, real candles actually in the holders. One large cabinet adorned the far wall where pale china glinted in the light, swirls of color marring their features and making them appear more expensive than they probably were.

"Isn't it just lovely?" Marjorie trilled as she seemingly glided down the small set of steps to enter the living room from the kitchen.

I had to force my mouth shut so as not to appear rude for gaping.

"It…it's quite something." I eventually managed to get out, still taking in my new surroundings and finding even more things I had missed in my first initial survey.

"Wonderful! If you're ready I can show you to your new bedroom!" There went her hands again; I thought only cheerleaders and dancers did jazz fingers. I nodded, a bit unsure about what else the house could possibly hold, and she clapped in delight as she started for the staircase, plucking onto my jacket sleeve along the way. I stumbled after her for the first few steps before catching up and almost running into her back as she abruptly stopped.

"I've got you placed on the north side of the house, overlooking the backyard. I do hope that's alright!" She turned quickly to face me, genuine concern on her face as she stared at me.

Well this was…weird...

"Huh? Oh, the north?" I repeated, confused as to what that even meant. "North is fine, perfectly fine!" I assured her and watched as her face lit back up like a bulb on a Christmas tree that had blinked out for one quick breath before jolting back to life.

"Excellent!" She clapped, turning back around and fluttering onto the small landing as she turned to face a closed door. "And here we are!" She motioned with a grand gesture towards me; obviously I was supposed to open the door. I held my breath and grasped the brass knob with one hand and turned it slowly, the mechanics within grinding together slightly. I gave a small, sharp push and the door popped open and…

Wow.

This was unexpected.

I stared in shocked confusion at the four blank walls of pure white and newly polished wooden floor, the brightness of it all slightly overwhelming. I stared at it for what felt like forever before turning to Marjorie's beaming face.

"It's, uh, very…white." I finished lamely; I had to admit I was looking forward to another explosion of knick-knacks and color.

"Of course, my little Hollyhock, it's supposed to be!" And with that she pushed past me and into the room, unconsciously body checking me into the door jamb. "It's a blank canvas," She explained with outstretched arms, "waiting impatiently for you to breathe life into it!" I felt my mouth form a small 'o' as she twirled on the spot and smiled.

What the hell kind of dream was this and please, god, wake me up now.

She motioned for me to come join her and I hesitantly stepped forwards, my heart plummeting slightly as I missed the two steps leading down and I stumbled out to meet her. She latched onto my arm with a surprisingly gentle grip and once again made another flourish with her hand.

"I do hope you like it; I'm afraid I don't have much experience with children and the internet said self expression was the best route to take." She mused with her head cocked to the side in thought, something I couldn't help but smile at.

"It's alright, really. It's just…no one's ever really gave me this much freedom before." I shrugged as I stared around the room again, the openness of it already starting to grow on me.

The fact that I had three large bay windows helped.

I turned back to find Marjorie with the same thoughtful expression on her face and almost felt rude for interrupting.

"Can I ask you something?" She snapped out of her trance at this and smiled down at me.

"But of course!"

"Where's the furniture?" She stared at me for a few long seconds before looking up and around the room, a small blush blooming on her cheeks.

"Oh my…you will need some, won't you?" She laughed while pulling me into a bone crushing side-hug.

It took all I had not to face-palm right then and there.

* * *

"_Spontaneity, Quinnella, spontaneity!_" The jazz fingers were really starting to grow old as Marjorie fluttered them at me, clearly telling me to shoo away. She nodded encouragingly as I took a few steps forwards before turning back to talk to the elderly man behind the counter.

After establishing that I would, indeed, need furniture (and also a mattress), the woman had practically dragged me out of the house and forced me into her car; the very shiny and new WV Rabbit. I'll never understand the logic behind whoever thought it would be a good idea to give the lady a license, but I digress.

I'm alive at least.

From there she drove us up and out of La Push, a place I had only briefly seen in passing and now called home, to the tiny town of Port Angeles…or at least the outskirts of it, if that was possible.

I think it'd be safe to say were right in the middle between point A and point B at dot X, which happened to be a very large and broken down antique warehouse; clearly my new guardian came here frequently as she whipped into the 'Most Valued Customer' parking space right by the door with an extreme amount of G-force.

My stomach was still reeling from being sloshed around.

We were no sooner inside the door that Marjorie surprised me yet again by whipping out a clunker of a digital camera from her larger-than-a-beach bag purse and tossing it at me, a smile lighting up her features.

"The rules are simple," She had exclaimed as she waved at the warehouse full of junk before us, "find everything you want, but nothing that you need! Find things that represent _you_!"

And that's how I ended up being shoo-ed away to go find things that represented me. I didn't stick around to watch the inevitable flirting between old folks that was about to go down and picked my way into the mess of jumbled up furniture and miscellaneous items, not quite sure what to expect. Sure, I had been in places like this before, but never to buy stuff that I was going to ultimately be living with.

No one had ever really asked me to furnish an entire room in a way that represented me, either.

_Oh my god._

I was one of _those_ people – the kind with no real sense of self awareness or personality.

It'd been so long since anyone had actually asked me about the things I liked or wanted that I found myself not even able to come up with a lie that could convince myself that this whole scenario _wasn't_ completely sad. When exactly had this happened? Better yet, how had I _let_ it happen?

It was these thoughts that made bogged me down as I squeezed through the nooks and crannies of piled up junk to get to different aisles. All around me were things that were cool and stuff, but nothing that really caught my eye or expressed who I was…which was pretty damn depressing when I didn't even know who I was in the first place.

Sighing in defeat I stopped where I was and looked around. The front of the store had long since disappeared behind me as did the chattering voices of Marjorie and her friend. Running a hand through my already knotted hair I stopped in my surveying as a flash of color caught my attention a few feet away. I kept my gaze locked on it as I pushed and shoved other things out of the way as I attempted to navigate over to whatever it was, somehow managing to end up in a small clearing. The thing that had caught my attention was in fact a dresser about waist high with two columns of drawers, the top most layer of pale green paint was chipped away in places that revealed a lighter blue beneath that and another color beneath that and so on.

It was like a rainbow of nothing but pastels had thrown up on the thing.

I smiled as I raised the camera and took a picture.

Maybe I wasn't completely hopeless as other items of similar décor and fashion began to pop out of the mess round me, proving that I indeed had a personality.

_Hallelujah!_

* * *

Marjorie was so proud of me – no really, she was.

"I love how you just opened yourself up to the possibilities and allowed life to flow in, Hollyhock!" I smiled from the passenger seat and reached over to shove a flailing hand back down onto the steering wheel; I could already tell this was going to soon be a natural instinct. "Some of the things you picked out were just simply magnificent; I couldn't have done better myself!"

"I'm sure you could have if you were looking." I replied and shook my head as we pulled back into the driveway of the cottage. The gnomes and other critters still freaked me out, but not as much since my arrival mere hours ago. Together we exited the car and I followed Marjorie down the path and up the front steps, smiling at the many wind chimes harmonizing in the breeze as she unlocked the door and flipped on a switch just inside, promptly causing the porch to light up with various strings of Christmas lights all in a clear bright white.

The whole Disney effect was instantly heightened.

I smiled and stepped inside, the screen door banging shut behind me as I paused to once again look around, noticing even more things I had missed before; I briefly wondered if I'd ever get to see it all.

"What do say about a little lasagna for dinner, Hollyhock? I'm feeling a bit Italian tonight!" Marjorie called from the kitchen as I made my way into the living room and leaned against the back of the sea foam green couch to look around even more.

"That sounds great!" I called back, slightly distracted by the oh-so many pictures. "Have you really seen all these things?" I asked looking over towards the kitchen to see the chef swaying in time with some music through the double door entranceway.

"But of course!" She laughed before opening a cabinet door and digging around for something. "Everything in that room serves as a reminder of the places I've been and seen in this lifetime."

"You must have seen the entire world." I remarked as I picked up a nearby frame and smiled down at the eccentric looking teenage girl posed with various Bollywood-looking performers.

I was guessing it was taken in India or some surrounding country.

"Ah, yes, that was my first visit to Mumbai." I jumped as Marjorie spoke from behind my shoulder and I glanced over to find her smiling gently. She reached out to pluck another picture off the table and held it up to me. "This was a few years later." There was no denying that the iconic building in the background was the Taj Mahal. I stared wide eyed at it and didn't look away until a light pat to my shoulder brought me back to reality.

"We can learn all about me later, dear, but right now dinner's ready and I would _love_ to know more about _you_."

"Really?" I asked, placing the picture down gently and allowing myself to be towed off towards the kitchen which was actually a lot bigger than it appeared. Just around the corner of the doorway was a set of double glass doors and a small breakfast nook where two plates of lasagna sat steaming on the table. My stomach growled as I was pushed down into a seat and a napkin and silverware appeared at my side. My new legal guardian slid into her seat gracefully and clasped her hands together in a gesture that seemed to state 'take her away!'.

What was I taking and where was I going with it?

"So!" I jumped at the enthusiastic exclamation. "William told me you're in your senior year of high school; are you happy to be graduating in the spring?"

"Uh, yeah, I think," I stumbled with my words, "I mean I hope I'll graduate – my learning experience hasn't been exactly normal, per se."

"Yes, and how unfortunate! No child should be forced to move around so much." She tsk-ed at me with a shake of her head, clearly displeased.

"It's alright, really," I tried to assure her though I wasn't quite sure why, "I've been in a lot of different schools where they taught different stuff, so if anything I'm pretty well set with the basics of life." I smiled slightly as she rolled her eyes in exasperation and picked up her fork.

"Besides your various forms of schooling what else should I know about you?" She asked with a quirked brow that made me freeze up where I sat. This whole sit-down-and-chat-let's-be-buddies thing was so foreign to me I felt like I was on another planet.

"Well…" I started, not quite sure where to start, "what do you want to know?"

"Just as I thought!" I jumped again at the sudden words and felt my eyes widen as I stared at the fork being brandished in my face.

"Am I in trouble?" I asked automatically, the response practically my default phrase.

"Of course not!" Marjorie laughed as she pulled her fork away and reached over to grab my hand with hers. "The moment I saw you I thought to myself 'well here's a bud that needs to become a blossom!' and that's exactly what you are, Hollyhock." She smiled comfortingly with a small squeeze to my hand, something I wasn't sure how to respond to. "William told me all about your cross country life style and I just want to clarify that just because you've never been properly settled down anywhere doesn't make you that much less of a human being, which is exactly how I'm going to treat you."

I stared at her for a few seconds trying to decide how to feel. A small part of me wanted to get mad and throw a fit that she was bringing up the past that I was trying so hard to forget while another, much larger, piece of me was thankful, relieved even, that I had finally found someone who got it.

"Thank you, Marjorie," I smiled, the latter feeling coming out in favor, "for everything." She smiled back and patted at my hand before retracting it back over to her side of the table.

"No worries, Hollyhock; we'll take life as it comes, especially tomorrow seeing as it's the first day of school! I hope you're an early riser!" I laughed along with her as she fluttered her hands in excitement and tried my damnedest to push down the rising feeling of dread.

How many first days of school should one person have to suffer?

* * *

_**A/N: Oh my gawwwwd, you guys; you have no idea how much fun I had writing this! I know it's a bit slow now, but laying out the groundwork usually is, but no worries: Collin and pals will be up front and present in the next chapter, so don't write me off just yet! Thanks for all the reviews/comments/alert notifications so far! It really means the world to me! ~Fluff **_


	3. Chapter 3

_**THANK YOU ALL so much for the wonderful reviews/comments submitted so far! I've tried to respond to everyone, so if I missed you I'm sorry! It doesn't mean I love you any less! **_

_**Also, a shout-out thanks to **__**Guns and Drums**__** for her reviews – they're bitchin' good like always! You don't have an inbox, so here's my reply! **_

* * *

_**.: Chapter 3 :.**_

* * *

I was past waking up wondering where I was anymore.

I didn't need to tell myself to calm down and not freak out – that I was in Washington state living with a neurotic woman obsessed with gardening and lawn figurines.

That I was living in a place called La Push.

That today was the first day of school.

I groaned and rolled over as much as the sofa would allow. Seeing as my new bedroom didn't have anything in it, including light bulbs and a mattress, I had slept on the sofa for the night. It was a little unsettling at first when I had tried to fall asleep knowing that even though the woman herself was upstairs, Marjorie was still staring at me from her various positions around the room. I had eventually managed to get some sleep in, but not enough to constitute a full night's rest.

Which was probably why I was dragging a bit behind schedule.

"Whoops…sorry." I apologized with a yawn as I bumped yet again into Marjorie as we shuffled around the kitchen. Despite the woman's energy during the day she was a rather sluggish person when confronted by the six o'clock waking hour.

"No worries, Hollyhock. Would you like me to pack you lunch?" She offered as I watched her pour an unusually large amount of sugar into her coffee; at least I knew where the craziness came from.

"You don't have to, I can just buy lunch," I shrugged while drinking down my own pure black cup of caffeine, "do you know how much it is?"

"Don't be silly!" She swatted at me, only to miss my arm completely. "Do you mind leftovers?"

"Not at all." I smiled as she swished over to the fridge in her neon zebra printed housecoat and began to dig around inside. I shook my head as I finished up my coffee and rinsed the mug out in the sink, looking out the back window to find even more flowers, gnomes and also something else.

"What's that?"

"What's what dear?"

"I don't know…" If I knew what it was why would I be asking? "It looks like a tool shed?"

"Oh!" I turned around just as she popped up from behind the fridge door. "That's the carriage house!" She smiled as she held up a Tupperware bowel of what looked like last night's lasagna; I gave her a thumbs-up to show approval.

"Ah…what's that?" For some reason I felt like I should have known what that was because of the way she said it.

"What is it?" She repeated as she grabbed an apple from a bowel on the counter and a muffin from beneath the glass cake dome on the bar. "Carriage houses were used in the olden days like garages for the upper class people with fancy rides. Today however, most people use them as guesthouses or studios and such." She shrugged, still dashing around the kitchen in a flurry of color.

"So what do you use yours for?"

"Storage mostly – it's like another little world in there." I had to bite back a snort at this: her whole house seemed like another world.

"So that's where you keep all your back up gnomes?" I grinned as she laughed and dug around in a drawer for something that turned out seconds later to be a brown paper bag.

"No, no; I have a separate place for them and the other gardening tools. The carriage house lodges the piano and other…" She trailed off to stare at me and I knew why: I couldn't help the wide eyed smile that was splayed across my face.

"Aha!" She exclaimed knowingly as she stuffed my food into the bag. "Seems as though we have a musician in our midst!" I bit my lip and tried to get rid of my daffy assed smile.

"N-not really," I tried to shrug her off nonchalantly, "I just mess around some."

"That's not what I heard!" She sang as she folded down the top of the bag and held it out to me with a flourish and Cheshire grin. I accepted it gratefully and pushed off from the counter where I had been leaning against it by the sink.

"Thank you!"

"Not a problem, my little Hollyhock!" She trilled as I stepped down into the living room to gather my coat and bag, aware the whole time she was following me.

"School lets out at two thirty I believe, so you can look forward to that and make sure you go directly to the main office when you get there; that's what the lovely woman said over the phone." I nodded in understanding and shrugged on my jacket and pulled on my scarf, realizing fleetingly that I'd need to find some better clothes if I was going to survive in my new greener and wetter environment.

I frowned down at the tights and shorts I wore with ballet flats.

I was going to need some pants.

"Don't worry dear; we'll get you settled in!" Marjorie laughed, seemingly picking up on my thought process as she pulled me to her side in a hug and started for the front door. I kept up this time, unlike last night where I had stumbled after her, and gripped my bag strap tighter as she wrenched open the front door and flicked on the Christmas lights.

It was still kind of dark outside.

"Well I guess I'll see you later." I stated as I made a move for the screen door, only to be jerked back by the hood of my jacket; the woman had some strength in her after all!

"Wait a minute, let me – yes, here we are!" I turned see what Marjorie was looking for and came face to face with a gleaming new set of keys, the VW logo unmistakable on the little black remote.

"No," I shook my head in disbelief, "really, I'll just take my own car!"

"Don't be silly! Have you seen the thing you drive? It looks like a hairy ol' turd." She stated firmly with a frown directed towards the driveway. I stared at her shock; did she seriously just compare my car to shit?

And hairy shit at that?

"Take the Rabbit – I know you like it!" She laughed as she forced the key into my hand and practically shoved me out the door.

"B-but what will you drive today?" I spluttered, once again amazed at how I was being thrown another act of kindness I had not yet experienced. She took a moment to think about this before brightening and stepping out the door to join me, her hand outstretched and open.

"Give me your keys – we'll switch."

"So you're going to drive the hairy turd?" I deadpanned.

"Yes! I'm going to drive the hairy turd!" I couldn't help but laugh; was this seriously happening right now? She fluttered her fingers at me in impatience and I dug my keys out of my pocket and dropped them into her hand, her face lighting up at the prospect of driving my car.

Maybe she'd do me a favor and send it over a cliff?

"Excellent! Now off you go!" She shoo-ed at me. "Don't want to be late!" I smiled as I left her standing on the front porch and made my way down the front walk, dew from the plants wetting my ankles as I waded through nodded flower heads leaning over the path. I clicked the unlock button on the remote and couldn't help but smile wider as the Rabbit lit up with life and I opened the driver door.

"Carpe diem!" Marjorie called out as I climbed in and started the engine, her hands clasped together in joy.

Even the gnomes seemed to encourage me on as I backed out.

* * *

I watched with slight amusement as other kids my age staggered their way into the building. Granted, there weren't a lot of them, but there were enough for me to tell that practically almost all of them were natives, meaning I was going to be the minority.

The white chick.

I found this thought funny and couldn't help myself from laughing out loud in the confines of the car. Out of all the schools in America I had been to in the last couple of years I had never been so largely outnumbered like I was now – I was kind of looking forward to this. I grabbed my messenger bag off the passenger seat and took one lat survey of the parking lot before heading out. I had parked in the most out of the way hole in the back of the lot out of sheer paranoia that someone would manage to key, dent or scratch Marjorie's car and wasn't willing to find out. I clicked the lock button on the remote twice for good measure and gave the Rabbit one last lingering look before trudging off towards the main doors where everyone else was funneling in.

I received a few looks upon merging with a group of girls as I shuffled in behind them and into the lobby of the school, noticing that it wasn't as shabby as it looked from the outside – and this was coming from someone who had been in a lot of schools in her lifetime.

I took only a second to look around at the white drop-in ceiling and tiled flooring before being shoved from behind, my feet tripping over one another in an effort to keep me upright. I grabbed at my bag to keep it from smacking others and looked over my shoulder to see a group of guys fooling around, their laughter booming like cannon fire through the hall, seemingly not aware that they had almost laid me out flat. I frowned as I turned back towards the main office and paused for one single heart beat as my gaze connected with another's, my subconscious informing me that I had never before seen such vibrant hazel hued eyes.

They were gone a moment later and I was still standing there like an idiot while the rest of the student body milled around me, now point blankly staring in curiosity. I felt myself blush lightly and ducked my head as I made a beeline for the office door and pulled it open, relishing in the fact that it was empty as I stepped inside. Looking around there were a few chairs and some potted plants along with landscape paintings decorating the light blue walls. In front of me was a counter with a small door near the one end, making it seem like some judge's desk out of a court room with a witness booth.

I stepped up and smiled politely at the lady with coke bottle glasses behind it.

"How may I help you, m'dear?" She asked, her voice quivering slightly as though she was really cold.

"Uh, yes, I'm new here – today's my first day." I was confused when her face lit up with what looked like recognition.

"So _you're_ Quinnella James!" She smiled as she struggled to stand from her desk chair to lean forwards over the counter to look at me. "Em just called me saying you were going to pop up in here at some point!"

"Really?" I asked, trying to decide whether this was going to be a good or bad thing.

"Of course! I'm so glad to finally meet you; Em hasn't stopped gushing since she found out you were coming up to stay a bit!"

"Oh, well, she's so sweet!" I smiled, a bit unsure as to what to say.

"That she is! Now let's get you set up, shall we?" She turned away to rummage around on her desk and eventually surfaced with something I recognized instantly.

My transcripts.

I blushed when she thumped them down on the counter between us.

"Take these and head on over to the guidance office; they'll get you set right up! They're right across the hall." She nodded even though she was staring at my imposing stack of papers. I bit my lip and pulled them from her grasp and hefted them into the crook of my arm.

"Well thanks so much!" I gushed, hoping she wasn't going to be one of them big talkers who could go on for hours.

"Of course!" She waved me off as I started walking backwards towards the door. "Now if you ever need anything you come see me, alright? I'm Mrs. Mathers, the secretary!"

"Great!" I smiled with a nod, my free hand reaching behind me for the knob. "You've been very helpful!" She waved me out of the office and continued to watch through the glass wall as I darted across the lobby and through the last few stragglers still coming in the front door.

I braced myself as I opened the door for the guidance office and held back a sigh of relief to find it relatively normal; there weren't any rabbit holes for me to fall down…further, at least.

The secretary here was much younger, with black hair twisted back into braid and a kind smile; she waved for me to come forwards while she talked into a phone cradled between her neck and shoulder. I waited for her to get done talking and smiled when she hung up.

"What can I help you with?" She asked, folding her arms forwards on the desk and leaning on them.

"Mrs. Mathers sent me here; I'm new."

"Yes," She nodded at my words, "we've been waiting for you!" She extended an arm out to press at the phone, a button lighting up red at her touch.

"Mr. Raines is going to be your counselor, so you can have a seat till he's ready, alright?" I nodded and moved over to plop down on a blue cushioned chair that matched the ones in the office. I looked around, noticing the décor wasn't much different from what I had just seen and found my eyes landing on the name plaque on the desk.

Ms. Parrish.

She seemed nice; wasn't pushy, smiled, and didn't make you take off your shoes upon entering like that one lady in Arizona.

"He'll see you now." I looked up at the words and stood. "Down the hall and first door on the left." She pointed with one hand while the other typed idly away on the keyboard. I followed her instructions and stopped just outside the door, waiting for the balding man to look up from whatever he was working on. When it became apparent he wasn't going to notice me anytime soon I cleared my throat politely and watched as he jumped and looked up.

"You must be the new student." He stated as he pulled off a pair of reading glasses and fixed me with an appraising look.

"Yes, sir." I nodded and he motioned for me to step inside and have a seat. He organized some papers as I got settled and placed some pens back in their cup holder.

"You have your transcripts?" He asked, still putting the writing devices where they rightfully belonged.

"Right here." I said, offering the pile of papers forward with both hands. He stared at them for a second, then at me, then back at them before accepting them with a small look of surprise. He flipped open the beaten up blue folder and skimmed the top most page.

"Your last school was in California." He stated. "Los Angeles." I nodded in confirmation even though he was still reading the paper. He flipped another page and I briefly wondered if he was going to read the whole thing. "Before that was Nevada," another flip, "Arizona," flip, "New Mexico," flip, "Nebraska," flip and…stop. "Oklahoma." He looked up at me with an incredulous face; he wasn't even a quarter of the way through.

"I move around a lot." I explained sheepishly with a small smile.

"Seems like it!" He laughed as he gave a flip to close the folder. "I'm assuming you're Quinnella James?"

My god – did everyone around here know about me?

"Yes, I am, but I usually just got by Quinn."

"Alright then; let me pull up your new schedule." He turned to a computer that could only be described as a fossil and typed away, muttering under his breath the whole time. "Here we go," He said while clicking around with the mouse, "I tried to match it up as closely to your previous one, but I'm afraid we don't have as many of the same classes."

"I'm sure whatever you have is fine." I assured him as the printer next to computer hummed to life and began printing off my new daily routine. He plucked it up once it was done and pushed it across the desk towards me.

"Take a look at that and tell me what you think." He sat back as I pulled the page closer and scanned my new set of classes. Since I had already covered my history and science classes back in LA all I had was honors chemistry and english, lunch, and two whole blank spaces of nothing.

"Where are my electives?" I asked, looking up in confusion.

"We don't offer the classes you took back in California, so our system automatically put in free periods." Mr. Raines explained with a wave of his hand.

"Oh…so you don't have any music classes or anything?"

"We do, but nothing like…" He turned to look at the computer screen where my old schedule was pulled up in an email, "advanced musical theory and composition."

"What _do_ you have?" I asked, hopeful that there'd be something for me to take that was even slightly musical related.

"We have band and that's it, although the term _is_ used rather loosely." Well I'd never quite heard it like that before; it sounded ominous.

"Is that…bad?" I asked with a small sense of foreboding; were the delinquents the only who took band or something?

"No, no, of course not!" Mr. Raines laughed with a shake of his head. "There just isn't a high demand for music here, so the band and choir are joined together. They don't really have performances because half of them can't even play or sing, so really it's like an appreciation class." I frowned at his explanation; I always found it sad when coming across a school that didn't fully embrace its music and arts programs.

"Is it possible for me to do that?" I asked, pushing my schedule back towards him so as he could change it. "Take band and give up a free block?"

"It's your life." He shrugged, whipping out a pen from his pocket and scrawling 'band' in one of the empty blocks along with a room number and teacher's name. "You're free to go now; welcome to QTS!" I smiled in thanks and pulled the paper from the desk as I stood and left the tiny office and back out to where Ms. Parrish sat still typing.

"Have a great day!" She called out as I waved while shouldering open the door.

Hmmm…I could get used to this.

* * *

English had been the biggest joke of a class I'd ever taken.

The teacher, Mrs. Kwaiya, was an elderly woman who couldn't hear a word you said but spoke loud enough to rival that of a rocket ship gearing up from the launch pad. She was completely unfazed when I showed up knocking on her door telling her I was a new student; she merely waved me in and called me Mary Beth before sending me to a desk at the back of the room. From there we watched the Disney version of _Tarzan_ while she knitted behind her desk.

After that I had Chemistry, which wasn't a whole helluva lot better than English; the only thing different about it was the fact the teacher, Mr. Kinsey, was pretty _unf_-tacular. He looked no more than thirty and had copper colored skin and thick, black geek-chic glasses that matched the color of his hair. He had been nice when I showed up and had set me up at a lab table by myself and gave me a rundown of the semester while my classmates watched an episode from season one of _House_, which turned out to be the only thing we did.

Did they even teach at this school?

I sighed and leaned back in my chair; I had survived until lunch at least despite the fact I had practically done nothing challenging since setting foot through the door. I picked idly at the muffin Marjorie had thrown in with my lunch and used my foot against the table leg to lever the front two legs of my chair off the ground. No one had even said so much as _hey_, _hi_, _how ya doin'_, or even _dude, get out of the way!_ to me all morning.

It was kind of depressing, really; usually I met people through my classes, but seeing as we watched movies all day and sat in the dark, that really didn't seem to be an option right now.

I frowned and popped a chunk of the pastry into my mouth, my other hand reaching for the copy of _The Picture of Dorian Gray _that sat next to my unopened bottle of water. I smiled bitterly as I flipped open the cover and studied the title page before moving on the thumb throughout the rest of the book.

I know this may seem weird, but it's almost always worked no matter where I am: after realizing that I wasn't going to have a solid freshman year in one go, I decided that no matter where I went to next I would always go to the library and check out _Dorian Gray, _seeing how it was the first book I was ever assigned to read in high school. Depending on what condition the book was in I could pretty much guess as to how my time in a certain place was going to go.

When I was in Maine the copy I had picked up had suffered through some major water damage; the pages were all wavy and the script slightly blurred as though it was crying; it was depressing, honestly. My time there, with my aunt and uncle, wasn't a good one; there were a lot fights, screaming, and most of all, tears – just as _Dorian Gray_ showed.

When I was in Georgia the copy was fairly new, but due to some misprints not all the pages were there and the book promptly split in half when I cracked it open; the binding literally coming apart at the seams. My cousin and her husband got a divorce a week later and I was sent packing.

So you can see where I'm going with this.

I know it's bad to base your life around an inanimate object – especially something like a book – but I've never really believed wholeheartedly that _Dorian Gray_ was the deciding factor in where I lived; he was just always good at picking out the bad before I could realize it was there.

But he could be wrong, too; look at Los Angeles.

I was happy there; I had finally found people who loved having me around and spending time doing things families normally did, like eating out, watching movies, and just having fun. When I went to school there, _Dorian Gray_ was so disgusting I had scrubbed my hands for what felt like hours trying to get rid of the grimy feeling. There had been so many different stains splattered across the front and back covers that the title was almost unreadable. Inside there were rude notes written in the margins and crude drawings of what seemed to be MILFs on the title page.

I had immediately assumed the worse, since before that the book had never let me down, but my time there was probably the best I had ever had, which was why I was so sad to watch the Los Angeles skyline receding into the distance in my rearview mirror that sunny morning I had left to come north.

And now here I was, sitting in the Quileute Tribal School cafeteria, flipping through a brand spanking new edition of _The Picture of Dorian Gray_: it still had the bargain buy sticker on it from the store.

I was actually kind of speechless.

The due date card in the back showed that not a single other person had ever checked it out, and the way the cover and page edges were as straight as an arrow suggested that no one had even taken it off the shelf, let alone read it.

I was going to take this as a good sign.

This was going to be a good thing.

I pushed myself up and down in my chair as I settled down to begin reading – oh yes; I read it every single time I checked it out – and smiled at the crispness of the pages beneath my fingers and the clarity of the font. I was probably no more than five pages in when a bright flash from the left blinded my peripherals and I jumped in surprise, my foot giving me too much of a lift as I felt myself starting to fall backwards. I squeezed my eyes shut and braced for impact, waiting for the inevitable blow to the head and explosion of laughter from judgmental bystanders who would still find it funny three days later.

But it never came.

I peeked an eye open in suspicion, followed by the other, and found myself staring into the same hazel hued gaze I had seen this morning.

"You alright?" I blinked a few times in confusion, wondering why the hell there was a face hovering down so close to mine. That's when I realized I was still tipped back my chair with this guy's hand grabbing at the top to hold it steady.

I felt myself flush lightly and leaned forwards so as to come back down to earth, aware of his eyes on me the whole.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I managed to bite out as I laid Dorian down the table and ran and flustered hand back through my hair.

"Sorry about that, I didn't think the flash was on!" I looked up to find my savior smiling sheepishly as he held up a digital camera and gave it a small wave.

"Huh, oh, no worries." I shrugged with a small smile and watched with veiled shock as the guy lowered himself into one of the many empty chairs at my table of one. We stared at each other for a few seconds – me not knowing what to do and him seemingly trying to figure something out.

"I, um, I'm Quinn." I offered out a hand, figuring I might as well get started on getting to know some people so I wouldn't have to sit by myself anymore; it really was as lonely as all the teen angst movies depicted.

"Collin." He smiled as he took my hand and gave it few hearty pumps; I thought my wrist was going to snap in half for a second. "So you new here?" He questioned, his perkiness slightly overwhelming.

"Yeah," I nodded in slight shock as he practically bobbed up and down in his seat, "today's my first day."

"Neat! Where're you living at?" I debated for a few seconds as whether or not I really wanted this guy to know where I was living.

"Oh, wait, I know! You're staying with Em, right?" He blurted out before I could even open my mouth.

"Em?" I asked. "You mean Marjorie?"

"Yup!" He smiled. "Everyone loves her; she's practically the town grandmother."

"Oh really?"

"Mm-hm! We've been waiting for you to get here for days!"

"Oh…" So that's why everyone apparently knew about me; Marjorie had been bragging. I smiled slightly, finding it endearing that she had been so excited about me coming to live with her in La Push.

"So what kind classes do you have?" I popped back into reality as Collin swatted a hand down my schedule that was lying off to the side and pulled it towards him. He studied it for a few moments before nodding in approval and looking up to fix me with a smile.

"Sorry about Kwaiya; she's kind of crazy in the head. Kinsey's cool even though he's permanently banned me from the labs, but no worries, it _was_ my fault." I couldn't help but give a small laugh at this and watched as Collin's smile grew.

"What exactly did you do?" I asked with a smile of my own.

"Let's just say there was a Bunsen burner, a soda can, and a bag of popcorn. I'll leave it at that." He explained with a slight blush tinting his sun kissed cheeks. I laughed again and made a move to gather my things as I noticed the bell to release lunch was about to ring.

"I'll take your word for it." I pulled my schedule back across the table and gathered up my trash in one hand.

"I would say I'd see you next block, but Mr. P called in sick today and couldn't get a sub, so no class."

"You're in band too?"

"Yeah, but it's more like music appreciation class." I frowned and bit back a groan; it sounded so cheesy when worded like that.

"Well thanks for the heads up. Guess I'll get going then." I grabbed my bag off the chair next to me and stood, Collin matching my actions perfectly.

"Yeah, I guess so!" He swiped his camera back into his hands and fiddled with it for a few moments.

"Were you taking pictures of me?" I asked before I could help myself. The flash _had_ been directed at me, so it was only normal to assume, right? I didn't want to come off as conceited or anything.

Whoops.

"I, uh, well, I – yeah." Collin squinted his eyes in embarrassment and avoided looking at me. "Again…sorry about that."

"I don't mind, really," I waved it off as I started for the trashcans, him following on my heels, "what made me so interesting?" Dear lord…was I _flirting_?

I didn't even know I could do that.

"You…well…you were reading, and the lighting was just really perfect and also the way you were tipped back in your chair and...and…yeah." I laughed as Collin blushed even darker than before and tugged at his inky black curls atop his head.

"Do you work on the school paper or something?" I asked before stopping to consider. "Do you even _have_ a paper?"

"What? Oh yeah, we do," Collin nodded fervently, "I'm not on it or anything. I'm in the AV class, which is kind of like art and computer class all crammed into one. We do photography and media design and stuff – nothing too fancy." He shrugged, his skin tone evening out into its normal tan rather than pink.

"And you also do band – I'm impressed." I smiled, causing him to look up at me and blink a few times as though he couldn't believe he was actually talking to me or something.

"Yeah." He nodded, grinning from ear to ear, his hands still messing with the camera. "Well…I guess I'll let you go then; it was great meeting you!" He shoved out his hand, taking me by surprise. I just shook my head and shook it again, this time noticing the warmth that seeped into mine.

"See you around?" He asked, an expression I could call eager hopefulness on his face.

I bit my lip and smiled.

"Looks like it." Collin laughed and gave my hand a slight squeeze before releasing it and shooting me one last smile before practically skipping off to the other side of the cafeteria. I watched him all while smiling like an idiot and shaking my head in slight disbelief; did that really just happen?

Looked like _Dorian Gray_ was going to be right this time…and if not I was going to burn it.

No, seriously, I would.

Definitely.

* * *

"Hollyhock!" Marjorie exclaimed from where she was knelt down amongst a flower bed lining the wall along the house; I waved as I crossed over to her from the driveway. "You're home early!"

"Yeah, my class was cancelled and I had a free block after that. They didn't have some of the classes I took back in LA." I explained, watching as the ground was stabbed rather viciously by a garden spade.

"Aw, I'm sorry, dear. Surely you found something, though?"

"Oh yeah, I'm taking band…which is apparently more of an appreciation class than actual band."

"Oh I know! I think it's terrible how they do that; children need creative outlets that aren't virtual or downloaded. When I was growing up I could play all sorts of instruments!" I smiled and crouched down next to her as she ripped open a seed packet with her teeth and dumped them out in her hand.

"Like what?" I asked, my interest peaking higher than it ever had before since I arrived.

"Harmonica, saxophone, clarinet…flute, I think, and the accordion, but only good days, mind you!"

"Did you play the piano?" She sent me a look and smiled, the brightness in her eyes magnifying itself by twenty watts.

"Especially piano." She nodded as she pinched at the seeds and dropped them into the ground she had previously been digging at. I smiled and watched her for a few seconds; she was so precise and patient I almost couldn't believe it.

I would have just dumped them all in a pile and let the plants battle it out.

"Oh!" I jumped as Marjorie turned to suddenly face me full on. "Your things were delivered today!" It took me a bit to realize she must have been talking about my furniture.

"Really?" I stood, more eager than I realized about the prospect of setting up a room of my own.

"It's all upstairs; mattress too. Its set up on the frame, so be careful if you want to move the bed; it'll be heavy. And there's paint in the tool shed and I laid out some boxes in the hall from the attic you can go through to find anything else you might like." I stared at her for a few seconds, not quite believing what I was hearing.

"Are you being serious?" I asked, my eyes wide as she laughed.

"One hundred percent, Hollyhock!" Then I did something that surprised the both of us: I hugged her.

Well launched myself at her was more like it, but the sentiment was still there.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I squeezed her lightly as she patted at my back, her laughter still ringing out across the yard.

"You're most certainly welcome, Quinn." I didn't bother to hide my surprise as she used my actual name for once. "You'll _always_ have a place here." She gave me a hearty squeeze before practically shoving me away and in the direction of the front door.

"Go decorate!" She commanded with her trademark flutter of fingers. I laughed and darted up the porch steps, through the foyer, and all the ways upstairs in what felt like one solid breath. When I opened the door I was met with the same feeling of openness as the day before and relished in it, savoring every last little bit I could suck in.

Even though the annoying little voice in the back of my head told me not to get too happy here, that something would ultimately put an end it, I ignored it in favor of the mini-Marjorie advising me on where to put the head of my bed with its chipped lavender painted frame.

I was torn between east and west.

Wasn't one supposed to have mythical powers?

* * *

_**A/N: Well guys…I've done something I swore I never would: I've regressed back to high school. I said I would never do a fanfic that dealt with the complications of school, but here we are. Oh well. It's where the story wanted to go, so I just followed, albeit very unwillingly. I digress. :P**_

_**Anywho, the next chapter features even more insightful info on Quinn and her rather colorful upbringing, some more Colliny goodness with maybe a glimpse into his head (?) and some pretty different stuff overall. **_

_**Also, does anyone have the slightest idea as to what Collin might possibly look like? I'm imaging a young Darren Criss (I LOVE the curls), but if anyone has any other suggestions I'll gladly accept them. I'm having a hard time visualizing him – damn you Collin! **_

_*****IMPORTANT*** Out of everything, at least read this: EXPECT DELAYS. My mom's volunteered me to be her unofficial babysitting assistant, so that, mixed with school, will eat up some time. Sorry, but I'm trying! **_


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N at end.**

* * *

**.: Chapter 4 :.**

* * *

"Goin' somewhere?" I stopped and turned away from the front door where my hand was clenched around the knob. Marjorie was staring at me with a look that could have only been straight up amusement as she gave me the once over with her gaze.

I knew I looked a damn mess – I had overslept.

I was obviously a repeat dresser with the same black tights from yesterday with a new pair of shorts and a flannel and the same ole ballet flats.

"School?" I had meant for it to sound like a statement, but it came out sounding more like a question. Marjorie gave a small laugh and shook her head as she grasped at my elbow and towed me back towards the stairs.

"What?" I asked as she pushed me up the first few steps, wondering what the hell she was doing; I was already late enough as it was.

And apparently cranky.

"It's Saturday, dear, unless they're making the youth of today attend classes on the weekend?" I stared at her as though realizing she had grown a second head.

"Are you serious?"

"Quite so." She nodded with another smile. "Why don't you go back to bed? Catch up on some sleep?" She patted at my arm and left me standing there dumbfounded.

Did I seriously just wake up and try to go to school on a Saturday?

I smacked a hand to my face and trudged back upstairs and into my room, clicking the door shut behind me. I didn't even bother turning the light on as I crossed over to the bed, ditching my bag halfway there as I collapsed back into it. I relished in the softness as I sunk into the mattress and closed my eyes, fully relaxing back into my newly furnished room. When Marjorie had sent me up last evening to 'get everything to my liking' as she had put it, I had worked well into the wee hours of the morning.

I had actually only left once to get food, and even that had been a hurried trip.

The end result was me having the dream room I had never had anywhere else.

My oddly painted and mismatched dressers were pressed against the walls and spaced out accordingly while I had managed to heave and shove my bed into the corner where windows were on either side. This probably wasn't the smartest idea seeing how drafts would blow in and the windows looked like they could leak, but I honestly couldn't have cared less.

I'd always wanted to lay in bed and look out a window.

Across the room from the bed I could see the glow of the Christmas lights I had wrapped around the bar in the closet through the slotted doors. I had childishly slept with them on and the effect had been wonderful; the warm glow was so homey and welcoming I didn't even stand a chance when my head hit the pillow. And the closet wasn't the only place lights had been hung; they were pretty much everywhere. White lights had been thumb tacked to the ceiling around the perimeter of the room while white paper lanterns trailed around the mirror on the dresser and blue lights twinkled from where they were woven into the openings on the vintage headboard of the bed.

Marjorie and I apparently had a lot more in common than I thought.

I smiled sleepily and leaned over the edge of the bed to plug in the blue ones, by far my favorite, before snuggling back down in the downy comfort of the sheets and blankets I had dragged out of the closet. I wasn't too cracked up about the little blue whales swimming around on the comforter, but after lazily tracing a few I drifted off to sleep I found that I wouldn't have it anyway else.

* * *

There was something non-natural stuck in my nose.

It smelt coppery and metallic.

Sure enough, after cracking open my eyes and blinking into consciousness, I could see something small and bronze colored right in front of my nose before going cross eyed. I reached up and swatted at whatever it was and leaned back on an elbow, my free hand digging groggily at my face and eyes. My head still swam hazily as I rolled over completely onto my back and stared up at the wooden beams of the ceiling.

How long had I been asleep?

What time was it now?

What was that thing in my nose?

I looked sideways and once again came face to face with the offending object. Now that it wasn't half shoved up one of my nostrils, I could actually pluck it from the sheets and hold it in my hand. There didn't seem to be anything special about it – it was just an old timey key like you see in those black and white movies with no sound. I was pretty sure there had to be a proper name for them, but as far I was concerned I was just worried about where it had come from.

I had a feeling Marjorie was somehow behind it.

I smiled and rolled over to look at the alarm clock, finding it to be a quarter past Post-it.

Wait, no, that wasn't right.

I reached out to pull the sticky notes away from the face of the clock and it found it to be just after one in the afternoon. I marveled in the fact that I had never before slept past ten, let alone twelve, and squinted at the cramped up handwriting on the fluorescent pink note.

"Hollyhock," I read to no one in particular; I was really going to have to ask about that nickname too, "went to Forks from some last minutes items for tonight's cook out which I forgot to mention to you, but am doing so now. It's a weekly gathering around here and people _LOVE_ my chocolate chip pancakes, so there's no denying an adoring crowd!" I shook my head at this and turned the small square of paper as Marjorie's writing curved around the bottom and looped around all the rest. "Since you're still asleep I've left this note explaining where I've gone and also the key to the carriage…" At this I had to flip it over to continue reading on the back, "house in the hopes you'll find enjoyment out there and reconnect with your musical passion in which dear William told me so much about. Can't wait to hear something – anything, really – so start practicing!" I blew out a puff of laughter and pushed myself into a sitting position, my spinal column snap-crackle-popping along the way as I twisted side to side.

I slid easily out of the bed and stretched some more before setting out to do as I was told, slipping back into my shoes on my way out. Down in the foyer I grabbed an overly bright umbrella from the decorative vase that housed many others and slipped out through the back door only to find it wasn't raining as much as it had looked. Nevertheless I toted the umbrella along with me as I squished through the yard and onto the wood chipped path leading back into the forest.

The carriage house, like the cottage, was blindingly white and looked to have a lot of windows along with an army of flower beds patrolling the perimeter. The steps leading up to the main door were rickety and I briefly wondered how safe there were; they appeared fine, but the mold and mildew seemed to say otherwise. I started up the first few steps hesitantly and jumped as a loud cracking sound echoed in the silence and I held my breath, waiting to fall in one way or another.

Nothing happened.

I bit my lip and waited to see if anything else would happen, but when nothing but the silence of the forest resumed I assumed that the worst thing that could possibly happen already had. I slid the key into its matching old school lock and had to shoulder the door open, the hinges screaming the whole way; apparently no one had been in here for a while.

Or maybe not.

I shook my head and grabbed at the sticky note stuck to the wall directly across from the door; Marjorie was obviously two steps ahead of me.

"Hollyhock," I smiled in disbelief and ventured further inside, "welcome to the carriage house! I've cleaned up some so as you can have some room to move around, but feel free to redecorate if you feel the need! The piano was serviced last year and should be in top working order; there's some music books in the box labeled 'musical prowess', so help yourself! I suggest opening all the bay doors – direct airflow allows for more creation and less mold you breathe in!" I shoved this little note in my pocket along with the other from my room, and flipped the light switch, the few bulbs hanging from the peaked beam ceiling humming to life. Shelves lined every single wall with everything you could possibly imagine hanging off of them; clothes, food, books, lamps…junk.

A lot of it.

The air smelt strongly of Pinesol as I moved across the floor to open the second set of double doors, followed by the third and fourth. It seems pointless to have four sets of doors, but seeing as the building itself was a perfect square then I guess it made sense, but it was still something I couldn't wrap my mind around.

Especially when there was a gleaming black grand piano right smack dab in the middle of it all.

I couldn't stop my mouth from dropping open as I took in the sight before me; I now knew what cats felt like when exposed to a particularly vicious dose of nip. I approached the thing slowly as though approaching a wild animal even though the rational side of my brain was screaming at me to get a grip – the piano wasn't going to run off or anything. I hesitantly laid a hand on the cover, scared to leave any fingerprints, as I made my way around to the front, where the lid was closed down tightly over the ivories.

In all my years of moving around the country and from person to person, family to family, the only constant thing had been my love for music. It never mattered where I was or who I was with; there was always a piano within distance, whether it be driving, walking, or merely in the next room. I had started out learning scales and small pieces when I was little and lived with my aunt in DC after she had taken me away from my mom and dad back down south – she was one of them people who thought discipline was the greatest thing a person could ever master. She herself had never learned how to play, but had inherited an old upright piano that had been left behind when she moved into her new apartment.

Before I came along she had used the thing as a plant stand.

She wasted no time in going out to buy various piano and music books – she did after all need something to keep me busy with as she flitted in and out as her job demanded. Every day after school and pretty much every weekend I spent my time in front of the piano, teaching myself how to play while my aunt half listened with one ear while the other was glued to her cell phone.

It wasn't the most ideal childhood, but at that point I don't think was ever destined to have one.

I shrugged off the annoying feeling of nostalgia slowly creeping in as I slid onto the seemingly pristine bench and ran a hand across the gleaming wood still keeping me from the keys. I knew full well Marjorie had given me permission to play the thing – she was practically begging – but I still couldn't help but be paranoid as I glanced out every door before lifting up the cover. The keys were just as spotless and gleaming as the rest of the instrument and I held my breath as I pushed the coved back and into place so it wouldn't come crashing down onto my fingers – it had happened before.

Sitting there, staring at the keys, I couldn't help but tear up a little.

Maybe it was all the emotions I've been repressing since I got here coming out.

Maybe it was the fact that for once someone was taking an interest in me and genuinely seemed to care.

Maybe it was the simple fact that for once I felt like I had a home.

I wasn't someone who liked to dwell on the past, but then again I wasn't someone who dwelled on the future; living life in the present was something I always forced myself to do. Why build up so many expectations for the future only to have them shot down later on or changed into a completely different idea?

It just seemed both pointless and cruel.

* * *

**A/N: so wow. Here's an update! Is it short? YES. Is it a filler? YOU BETTER BELIEVE IT. Are there any readers out there left? HELL IF I KNOW. **

**I guess THANKS if you read & review and if not, then, well...I dunno. Apparently you had something better to do! No worries, though. I know it's been a while! And for anyone wondering/curious, I updated my bio page. Go enjoy my ranbling. :)**


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